The Drowned Man poem – Alexander Pushkin

A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation

Children running into izba,

Calling father, dripping sweat:

“Daddy, daddy! come — there is a

Deadman caught inside our net.”

“Fancy, fancy fabrication…”

Grumbled off their weary Pa,

“Have these imps imagination!

Deadman, really! ya-ha-ha…

“Well… the court may come to bother –

What’ll I say before the judge?

Hey you brats, go have your mother

Bring my coat; I better trudge…

Show me, where?” — “Right there, Dad, farther!”

On the sand where netting ropes

Lay spread out, the peasant father

Saw the veritable corpse.

Badly mangled, ugly, frightening,

Blue and swollen on each side…

Has he fished in storm and lightning,

Or committed suicide?

Could this be a careless drunkard,

Or a mermaid-seeking monk,

Or a merchandizer, conquered

By some bandits, robbed and sunk?

To the peasant, what’s it matter!

Quick: he grabs the dead man’s hair,

Drags his body to the water,

Looks around: nobody’s there:

Good… relieved of the concern he

Shoves his paddle at a loss,

While the stiff resumes his journey

Down the stream for grave and cross.

Long the dead man as one living

Rocked on waves amid the foam…

Surly as he watched him leaving,

Soon our peasant headed home.

“Come you pups! let’s go, don’t scatter.

Each of you will get his bun.

But remember: just you chatter —

And I’ll whip you, every one.”

Dark and stormy it was turning.

High the river ran in gloom.

Now the torch has finished burning

In the peasant’s smoky room.

Kids asleep, the wife aslumber,

He lies listening to the rain…

Bang! he hears a sudden comer

Knocking on the window-pane.

“What the…” — “Let me in there, master!”

“Damn, you found the time to roam!

Well, what is it, your disaster?

Let you in? It’s dark at home,

Dark and crowded… What a pest you are!

Where’d I put you in my cot…”

Slowly, with a lazy gesture,

He lifts up the pane and; what?

Through the clouds, the moon was showing…

Well? the naked man was there,

Down his hair the water flowing,

Wide his eyes, unmoved the stare;

Numb the dreadful-looking body,

Arms were hanging feeble, thin;

Crabs and cancers, black and bloody,

Sucked into the swollen skin.

As the peasant slammed the shutter

(Recognized his visitant)

Horror-struck he could but mutter

“Blast you!” and began to pant.

He was shuddering, awful chaos

All night through stirred in his brain,

While the knocking shook the house

By the gates and at the pane.

People tell a dreadful rumor:

Every year the peasant, say,

Waiting in the worst of humor

For his visitor that day;

As the rainstorm is increasing,

Nightfall brings a hurricane –

And the drowned man knocks, unceasing,

By the gates and at the pane.

translated by: Genia Gurarie

email: egurarie@princeton.edu

Copyright ©: 
Genia Gurarie

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 93: So shall I live, supposing thou art true by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 92: But do thy worst to steal thy self away by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 91: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 90: Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 88: When thou shalt be disposed to set me light by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 85: My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 84: Who is it that says most, which can say more by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 82: I grant thou wert not married to my Muse by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 81: Or I shall live your epitaph to make by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 80: O, how I faint when I of you do write by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 7: Lo, in the orient when the gracious light by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 79: Whilst I alone did call upon thy aid by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 78: So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 77: Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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